


What if I set you free?

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enochian-Speaking Sam Winchester, Evil Lucifer (Supernatural), Fluff and Angst, Good Older Sibling Michael (Supernatural), Good Person Michael (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Parental Bobby Singer, Possessive Lucifer, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Sam is in Lucifer's Cage, but Michael knows he doesn't belong there. So, when Michael has the chance to free both of them, will it work? Knowing Lucifer, he isn't going to let them go without a fight.
Relationships: Gabriel & Lucifer & Michael & Raphael (Supernatural), Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Michael & Sam Winchester
Comments: 28
Kudos: 210





	1. Darkest Parts of Hell

**Author's Note:**

> New fic! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Michael hadn't really expected to be impressed by a human. Sure, occasionally they surprised him, but this was entirely different. Not only had Sam continued to surprise him, but Michael was slightly in his debt, which was a strange feeling. The Archangel mused over this feeling while looking around the lightest corner of the Cage that he could find, having retreated to try and avoid the human’s screams. In the first couple of days, Michael had Adam to keep him company, but Sam had insisted that Michael use the rest of his power to get the human’s soul to Heaven.

He wasn’t used to listening to a Human, but Sam had promised to try and keep Lucifer occupied, and the Archangel knew that couldn’t be pleasant. When Lucifer found out about their coalition, well, Michael was still trying to get rid of the stains of blood from his mind, remembering how Sam had bled for his bravery. Now, just over a hundred years had passed in the Cage, with Lucifer’s never-ending torment.

 ** _‘You shouldn’t be here, Sam.’_** The human shrugged, moved closer to Michael, stealing a moment where Lucifer was busy, probably preening his feathers and brooding over what form of torture to try next. Sure enough, Michael couldn’t feel his brother’s presence, risked shifting towards the human. Even after all these years, Sam’s soul still shone, and the Archangel couldn’t help but reach out. Sam hummed, quite content to let him brush over the light.

 ** _‘Please, Michael?’_** Sam asked every time they were alone, safe from Lucifer. And every time he did, Michael was forced to say no. To save Sam the pain of knowing that his brother had not obeyed his last wish, that Dean Winchester was recruiting Heaven, Hell, and everything in between to get Sam back. Sam wanted to know what was going on topside, and Michael had just enough power to do such a thing.

 ** _‘If he catches us, Sam, he’ll break you.’_** If Lucifer even suspected the bond that the two of them shared, Michael feared he might break as well. This was Lucifer’s domain, there was nothing his brother didn’t know about this space, and he could manipulate it to his will. But then there was Sam, the anomaly in this situation. Any human should have broken within days, yet Sam was still here, years of the Cage not dampening him. Sure, the human was scarred beyond belief, his soul damaged and his mind plagued by what Lucifer had done, but it wasn’t irreversible.

He had been Michael, son of God, eldest born of the Archangels. Known for his strength, his legendary battle against his brother, purging heaven of Sin. The strongest, one of the chosen for the apocalypse, an Angel that controlled the entire Garrison. Yet, down here, none of that mattered. He was Michael, the only friend and companion of Sam Winchester, and the two of them relied on each other. Michael would do his bit, distract Lucifer and fight, sometimes for months on end, keeping his brother’s focus. But when he lost, like he did every time, and retreated to the furthest corners, the ones closest to the Earth, it was Sam that stepped up. Leaving Michael to nurse his wounds, the Hunter would distract Lucifer’s attention, offer him something enticing.

In that way, his brother was like a child. So easily distracted, so intrigued by a pretty toy. And Sam was the prettiest of them all, the True Vessel, and Michael had seen for a moment how powerful his brother could have been had Sam’s body not rejected the Angel. Not the childish, playful Lucifer that he could just about hold his own with. Not the Lucifer that was blinded by anger, quick to snap. No, in his True Vessel, Lucifer would have been incredible. Powerful, refined, a storm that was strangely controlled.

He had known the Vessels could do such a thing, always thought it was them, the Archangels, that brought such change. But looking at Sam, seeing how he would do anything to defend those he loved, he understood now why they were called the True Vessels. It had nothing to do with Michael and Lucifer, he couldn’t Sam as a reflection of Lucifer. Instead, he now knew that it was the human that made the Angel better. His father had been trying to teach him that for so long, who knew that all it took was a Hunter with a death-wish?

Sam knelt at his feet, those tri-coloured eyes focused on him, wide and earnest. Michael forced his gaze away, knew he could not say yes to what Sam was asking. If he did, it risked the end of Sam’s stability. And, like every time he looked away, Sam’s hand snuck out to rest on his knee.

 ** _‘I forgive you, Mica.’_** The nickname burned, made tears prick at the corner of his eyes, but he was reassured by the gentle squeeze of the human, the smile that showed him Sam was not angry. The human moved closer, still did not risk moving off his knees. He couldn’t remember the last time Sam had walked, Lucifer would have struck him down if he’d seen it, and Sam was adapting. He angered Lucifer less and less, his mind keeping him safe, learning how to appease the Devil. The thought made him chuckle sourly, if anyone could tame Lucifer’s rage, it would have been Sam.

 ** _‘You never fail to impress me, Sam.’_** The compliment long ago, would have been met with resistance. Sam had never believed in himself, a trait that Michael shared, although he kept it hidden well. Now, however, Sam beamed up at him, traced patterns on his knee. The Vessel was a nice one, a previous Vessel, and if he ever got out of this Cage, he hoped to revive it.

 ** _‘Tell me about the fledglings again.’_** As he finished speaking, fluent in a language he had now been speaking for longer that his native-tongue, Sam let his head rest against Michael’s thigh. The show of trust made the Archangel smile, spreading his legs so Sam could curl closer, the touch reassuring. He had never had such a touch, never platonic, everyone wanted to rise ranks. Angels that promised reassurance, but only to stab each other in the backs to try and impress him. Long ago, maybe, when he and Lucifer were young, watching Gabriel and Raphael make their first creatures.

Sam was, in the simplest platonic sense, Michael’s soulmate, or at least it felt like that sort of bond. Maybe it was because Sam and Dean were soulmates, however it brought the argument back to Michael’s opinion on how Sam was nothing like Lucifer, which would suggest Dean was not like Michael. Technically, Angels could not have soulmates, only bonded pairs, but that was purely romantic. And he couldn’t do that to Sam, not knowing everything he did, not when he had to sit back and watch Lucifer tear Sam apart.

Sam’s request was not unexpected. It was his favourite story, the one that never failed to put a smile on his face, and Michael didn’t mind telling it. Reaching out, he threaded his fingers through soft, smooth locks of hair, the feeling grounding him. In the corner of the Cage, closest as they could be to freedom, Michael offered Sam the escape he needed from the Cage in the darkest parts of Hell.

**_‘Long before Humans were around, there were the Angels. It was the four of us, settled in a place where no Darkness could ever touch, and we were happy…’_ **


	2. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, some torture and non-con, although not graphically described.

He could no longer deny it, something was going on topside, and Michael could feel the Cage responding. He wondered if his brother could feel it as well, then noted that he hadn't seen Lucifer in a while, something that usually meant trouble was coming. The Archangel left his refuge, moving towards the Darkness of the deeper parts of the Cage, the cold setting in as soon as he moved. It was like snow, descending in a heavy blanket over him, chilling him to the bone.

Oh, he found what was keeping Lucifer distracted. For a moment, Michael remained still, getting his stomach to comply with him. It took time, but eventually he could stomach the sight in front.

 ** _‘Brother.’_** Lucifer drawled, lazy and happy, a smile spread on his lips. His shirt was unbuttoned, like he had no concept of how cold it was down here, jeans unbuttoned but Sam’s head blocking whatever view Michael may have been forced to see. Sam himself looked awful, blood streaking down the pale skin of his back, layers and layers of lashes that Michael was surprised hadn't killed him.

The souls of the boy’s feet, charred and black, like he had been tortured with the hot coals that Michael wouldn’t dare get close to, even if they offered hope of warmth. Sam was naked, hardly surprising, Lucifer tended to keep him like that. It was what made him the best of all torturers that Michael had met, Lucifer was smart. He knew how to worm inside the mind, how to break it apart.

 ** _‘Lucifer.’_** He greeted, keeping his voice neutral, even as Lucifer sighed and pushed Sam’s head further down, the human not struggling, despite the fact he was choking. Eventually, Lucifer pulled Sam off, twisting the hair that he had between his fingers. When Michael saw Sam’s face, it was possibly the worst thing he had seen. Ignoring the swollen lips, the bruising around the base of his neck, Michael instead focused on Sam’s eyes. Or, where they should have been, had Lucifer not removed them.

 ** _‘Kept using those puppy-dog eyes on me.’_** The Devil remarked, lovingly stroking Sam’s hair, and the boy kept completely still. Hopefully in a place far away from here, away from where Lucifer was.

 ** _‘Have you felt it?’_** Michael asked, stalking across to the nearest wall to lean against, trying to act nonchalant even though his stomach felt sour at the sight. He couldn’t protect Sam, that much was clear, the boy staying on his knees as Lucifer stood up.

 ** _‘I feel something, but I don’t know what it is. Perhaps the Princes are trying to release me._** ’ Lucifer drawled, and Michael held his tongue. Sam kept his head bowed, not that he could get told off for staring, not when Michael had located his eyes on the floor not too far from where Lucifer was currently standing.

 ** _‘Perhaps.’_** Michael stated, knowing it was a lie, that the energy he had felt wasn’t demonic, let alone from a strength such as a Prince. It wasn’t to say that whatever was doing this was weak, for all he knew, it could be the entirety of Heaven trying to break him out.

 ** _‘It matters not, if I am released, I will take him with me.’_** Sam, Lucifer’s only hope of getting out of this Cage, if the boy said yes. Looking across, at the still determined shine of his soul, the way Sam was biting his inner cheek, Michael had a feeling that Sam wouldn’t give in. Not even a hundred years of torture had broken him, impressive.

 ** _‘Will you heal him?’_** He couldn’t help it, the sight of Sam like this freaked him out. Sam’s eyes were always expressive, one of the things Michael loved, and he fought to keep his thoughts in check as Lucifer glanced across.

 ** _‘Do you want a go?’_** A silence fell, the cold no longer bothering the older of the two, wondering why in Hell, no pun intended, Lucifer had just offered him such a thing. Did Lucifer think this would broach a friendship between them? An alliance? Offering out his True Vessel, who was now visibly shaking at the insinuation, and Michael pulled his lips into a sneer.

 ** _‘With a human? No thank you.’_** He made it sound like an insult, even though touching Sam Winchester was an honour, one that he didn’t blur the lines of. Lucifer didn’t seem put off by the statement, nor angry, instead walking back to Sam’s side.

 ** _‘Take him for a bit, I’m going to explore the Cage.’_** Many thought it small, but Lucifer could project, could shape the Cage however he wanted. The Devil moved to Sam, snapped his neck in one clean movement, then stalked off, probably wanting to explore the movements both of them had felt. Michael waited, watched Sam’s body piece itself back together as it did whenever Lucifer killed him. Slowly, Sam blinked, bright eyes finding him instantly.

 ** _‘Sorry.’_** The human apologising almost broke him, so he quickly stripped his jacket and wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders, settling beside him. Forming clothes would have taken manipulation skills, energy he didn’t have, not if he was going to do it. The unspeakable thing. Give Sam hope.

 ** _‘Mica?’_** Sam looked confused, the Grace Michael was directly moving over his soul, and the Archangel offered a sad smile.

**_‘Hold on, Sam, and see what I see.’_ **

**

He adjusted his sight, looking around the room they were in, studying the bookcases curiously. A lot of things he recognised, lore on certain mythological creatures, and although he didn’t know where exactly the power had taken him, he knew he was in the right place. The Archangel took a step, careful not to make a sound, in case someone saw him. Then, turning to the doorway, he froze. A human was staring back at him, one he recognised from the sight where Sam had taken them plummeting.

He was an older-looking man, a cap on his head, a glass in his hand that shattered against the floor. Michael was surprised that he could be seen by a human, he thought his Grace might have been detectable, but his entire body? It took Michael a moment to realise that it must be Sam’s power, his soul giving Michael the energy needed to make himself visible, even if the connection was weak.

Another person appeared, this was someone he knew. Dean Winchester, the man tortured in Hell on the rack by Alistair, a Demon that had a few tricks from Lucifer. Luckily nothing sexual, just pure pain, physical, and a way of worming himself into a victim’s mind. It took Dean Winchester thirty-years to break, a thing that told Michael he must be an incredible man. He looked tired, bags under his eyes, hair messy, stubble lining his jaw.

Unfortunately, the sound of shattered glass had allowed Michael to be distracted, so by the time he noted the Angels in the room, he was quite unprepared. Castiel was alive, which he hadn't been Michael had come back after being set on fire by the Seraph. A trench-coat and suited form, blue eyes staring at Michael like he’d seen a ghost. It was the second Angel that made Michael freeze, staring at Gabriel, who should be dead.

Should be, but wasn’t, staring right at him with the golden eyes that Michael remembered. He froze, then hesitantly reached, couldn’t help himself.

‘Impossible.’ Castiel stated, like Michael was an illusion.

‘Quite.’ Michael agreed, before unravelling his Grace slightly, enough so that they could see the soul he was cradling. Sam’s soul. Castiel gasped, Gabriel swore under his breath, and Michael tucked it back.

‘Is he safe?’ Dean looked broken, tears building, and Michael couldn’t help but sympathise.

‘Alive. Whatever your doing, it’s working. Don’t give up.’ He could feel his Grace retreating, being dragged back to the Cage, knew he had to go. Gabriel took a step forwards, and Michael ached to return the gesture, but he was fading.

‘We’ll get you out. Both of you.’ He could only smile, sad and alone, as he faded completely, plummeting back to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Always happy to hear from you guys! :)


	3. Freedom?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor

The first moment afterwards that Michael suspected they were close to succeeding, was an ordinary day in the Cage. Michael had awoken, not that he really needed to sleep, nor did he know whether it was day or night. Hell was especially rowdy, he could hear screams echoing through the wall, and it made him shudder. His wings were solid, evidently a sign that the last scrap with Lucifer had done more damage than he’d expected. It had been three months since he’d spoken to Castiel and Gabriel, not a lot topside, but this was Hell. No, this was the Cage.

In search of his brother and friend, Michael yet again left his patch, moved towards the other end of the Cage. The ground was stained with drying blood, sticky and gross against the floor, implying Lucifer hadn't restarted yet. Whether or not it was his first time cutting Sam in this body, he didn’t know. He approached, faltered and almost slipped on blood when he saw the scene. Sam stared at him, eyes glassy and unseeing, whether due to pain or pleasure, he wasn’t quite sure.

It was an obscene view, even for him. Michael swallowed down bile, realised that Sam was definitely in pain, not pleasure, that his skin was peeling along his thighs and across his stomach, a carving that possibly said Lucifer stretched along the skin. His legs were spread, straddling Lucifer’s, facing away from the Devil. Naked, as usual, and it took a moment for Michael to realise that what genitalia Sam should have wasn’t present. The blood implied it had been cut off, and Michael didn’t want to think about how painful that was.

 ** _‘Back for another fight?’_** Lucifer moved, in one smooth moment lifting Sam and pushing him down onto the stone table that Lucifer was working on, on his hands and knees, presumably so that he could stay inside the human. The Hunter whined, low and scared, but Michael didn’t look away from his brother.

 ** _‘Not particularly. Wondered why Hell was so loud.’_** At that, Lucifer pulled back, Sam’s body collapsing onto the stone as Lucifer dressed, walked to one of the walls. He tapped it once, before pressing his ear to it, while Sam slid off the table rather ungracefully, hissing as his body touched the floor. It was probably cold.

‘Good morning.’ Both Archangels spun, rather shocked to find Death standing in the Cage, looking between them curiously. His attention then dropped to Sam, not showing any emotion, before looking back up.

‘I think it’s time for a chat.’

**

Sam was trying not to die, or at least that was what he thought he was trying to do, curling up on the floor and reminding himself that the damage wasn’t permanent, that Lucifer would put him back together after a while. It hurt though, the pain of having his body cut apart, and it made it difficult to focus. There was someone in the Cage, that was what he needed to focus on, Death. The Horseman, the one that Dean had befriended during the apocalypse. Which meant that he was down here for a reason.

A reason that had Lucifer screaming, his True Voice echoing out, but Sam was unfortunate in being able to stand such a thing. If he hadn't, his body would have been killed instantly, regenerated to a clean slate. Instead, it hurt the inside of his head even more, yet he remained alive. Michael was cowering, quickly moving towards him, and Sam reached for the Archangel. Whatever was happening, they were on one side, together.

Michael’s hand reached for him, gripping him tightly and lifting his body as if it weighed nothing, wings wrapping around the two of them.

 ** _‘Mica?’_** He spoke, tasted blood thick on his tongue, tried to ignore it. There appeared to be light in the Cage, something that hadn't happened before, and Michael was walking in that direction, curling tighter around him. Death was still in the Cage, and Sam could hear Lucifer, could hear the many promises that the Devil was making, the threats against him.

 ** _‘I’m going to FIND YOU, SAM. YOU’RE MY BITCH!’_** Sam wasn’t sure why the Devil was saying something so obvious, Sam already knew he couldn’t escape the Devil, yet Michael was still walking. They reached the wall, Sam attempting to peak through feathers, fingers reaching for them and regretting it when they were stained with his blood.

 ** _‘Deep breath, Sam.’_** Was all Michael said, and suddenly Sam wished he’d been dead. Because it hurt, there was so much pain, it was burning him alive. Then, thankfully, nothing.

**

Michael looked around, tried to understand if there was anything threatening about the space. It was a large room, possibly even a warehouse of sorts, a cold stone beneath his feet. There was a ring of holy oil around him, he could smell it, but it wasn’t lit yet. Which implied that they thought he was trustworthy. Michael didn’t care, he could taste fresh air, couldn’t smell sulphur apart from what was pouring off his own body. The scent of Hell, something that clung to his feathers, much like Sam was currently doing.

He kept the human shielded, his wings spread over to keep the body safe, looking straight ahead. The Grace was recognisable, and Gabriel stepped out of the darkness, the lights flicking on. He blinked back a daze, adjusting to light levels he hadn't had in so long, staring at his younger brother. There was the fledgling, Castiel, beside him. The Vessel, Dean Winchester. The man with the Cap, Bobby Singer, the one that had been dead the last time he checked. Had Gabriel brought them back?

Michael remained standing, wings cocooning the human, wondering if this was an attack. Was he safe? Behind him, Death appeared, the opening of the Cage snapping shut. The Horseman vanished as soon as it was done, leaving Michael confused. Part of him wanted to vanish, to take Sam far away from anyone, to make sure the human was alright. His Grace was blocking Sam’s soul from being visible to the other Angels, for he knew they wouldn’t be impressed with the current state.

Sam needed an intense amount of healing. He was missing body parts, blood, and possibly couldn’t even remember where they were.

‘Michael…’ Gabriel’s voice was soft, he took a step closer, and Michael snarled in response. Sam was too hurt for anyone to get close, he couldn’t let it happen.

‘Is he alive?’ Michael slowly knelt, lowered Sam’s body to the ground, unwrapped his wings that were stained dark with blood. He heard the humans suck in breath, Dean’s choked sob, but Michael kept an eye on the Angels. Especially Gabriel, who was a threat, could kill him. And if he did, Michael wouldn’t be able to heal Sam.

 ** _‘Mica? Where’s Lucifer?’_** Sam’s voice was weak, broken, and still in Enochian. That didn’t surprise the Angel, who placed a hand to the boy’s forehead, focused everything he had. The blood disappeared, his body regenerating quickly, clothes forming as well. It was a weird sight, Michael hadn't seen Sam wearing so many layers since the day they fell, and Sam looked slightly worried, eyes widening.

**_‘Michael?’_ **

**_‘Sleep, Sam. I’ll be here.’_** Fingers reached for his wings, and he let them curl in, Sam moving his head to Michael’s lap. The Angel glared at the group in front, daring anyone to tear the human away, before sending Sam into a deep slumber.


	4. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the Cage

It was quiet, in this place that he presumed was home, at least for the time being. The Archangel was still unsure about the others, kept an eye on them as they moved in and out of the room, trying to check on the human that Michael had tucked up against him. Sam was asleep, comfy, legs entwined with his own. It was a gesture that Michael missed, that he loved doing, keeping Sam close enough to be safe.

Gabriel was sitting in the room when the others came in, taking seats, cups in their hands. Even Castiel had one, although his was a bottle, of what he presumed must be an alcoholic drink.

‘Where’s Adam?’ Right, his Vessel, the one he was no longer wearing. In fact, how this Vessel was holding him was slightly shocking, maybe because Sam’s soul was currently still twined with his own.

‘In Heaven. Sam asked for it to happen.’ At the mention of his name, the human stirred slightly, his head seeking Michael’s chest. The Archangel settled him, looked down fondly, wondered when the boy had last been allowed to properly sleep. With Michael so close, nightmares would not be able to reach him, nor burden him, and that was a thing Michael was glad for. Sam deserved some peace, even if he would be confused when he woke.

‘How long were you down there for?’ That was Gabriel asking, his brother actually looking concerned, which was sweet. But he didn’t need to worry, it had gone in the blink of an eye for him, barely enough time to worry. For Sam, however, it had been a chunk of time bigger than his lifespan already.

‘Around 120 years, give or take.’ Dean sucked in air, he should know how painful that would be, having been on the rack for forty years.

‘Explains the Enochian.’ Gabriel said to Castiel, who looked just as concerned about the Human. Sam decided it would be a good time to wake, eyes flicking open and observing the room. Michael waited, patiently as ever, recoiling his wings to give the human time to think. The Hunter was staring at the group, evidently trying to tell if they were real or not.

Down in the Cage, scenes like this were common. Dean, Bobby, John, Jess, Maddison, faces that haunted Sam and could easily be brought up, used against him as a method of torture. The only reason Sam trusted Michael was because he could recognise his Grace, much like Michael could recognise Sam’s soul. The silence stretched, until Sam shifted out of Michael’s grasp, heading straight in the direction of Castiel.

That made sense, Michael watched as the Seraph looked between the group for assistance, before Sam was staring right at him. Past his vessel, to the True Form, trying to recognise Castiel’s Grace. Michael let his reach out, coaxing the young fledgling to respond, and Sam gasped.

 ** _‘Castiel.’_** The Seraph looked shocked, opened his mouth as if to speak, but Sam was changing his attention to Gabriel. The Archangel had his Grace well hidden, but Sam was nothing if not relentless, focusing until the tiniest spark came through.

 ** _‘Gabriel. Shouldn’t you be dead?’_** The Archangel chuckled, offered his best smile, bordering on flirtatious. Unbeknownst to the humans, Sam’s soul recoiled slightly, probably due to the physical affection another Archangel had shown, back in Hell. Gabriel played it off smoothly.

‘Looking good, Samalam.’ Sam understood the words, even if he hadn't spoken English in a while, before he finally looked at Dean and Bobby. There was no way of being able to tell, not like he had with the Angels, and Sam seemed so… lost.

 ** _‘Dean?’_** The Dean that Sam had known for the past hundred years was one with wings, with an angry smile and cruel words. This one, the Dean that had tears shining in his eyes, who was reaching out for Sam cautiously, wasn’t what he was used to.

‘Sammy.’ Breathed out, rushed, breathless. Just like that, Sam’s spell was broken. He lunged, buried his head into the side of Dean’s neck while Dean clutched at him, brought him to his chest and held him there. Michael watched, standing slowly, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his wings. Bobby went next, hugged by the Hunter, and a strange calmness fell over them.

 ** _‘How is this even possible? How am I out? Why was Death there?’_** So, Sam had recalled Death coming to the Cage. Dean and Bobby looked lost, and Sam hadn't yet pieced together that he was speaking Enochian, Michael deciding to take pity on the group. He walked across, and the second his Grace was close enough, Sam’s soul was seeking out its warmth, cocooned himself under its weight.

‘English, Sam.’ Michael’s hand closed over Sam’s head, bringing forth memories before the Cage, of when his tongue spoke English as its native form. Sam’s brow scrunched up, like he was confused, before it was gone.

‘Better?’ Dean relaxed, as did Bobby, whereas Michael wondered how the Hell, no pun intended, they were going to manage to stay out of trouble when Heaven found out he was out.

**

Sam didn’t know how, but he was out. Out of the cold, dark depths of Hell, sitting outside on the hood of a beaten up car, sipping from a beer can. Alive, breathing, his lungs expanding and falling with the gentle air that he’d longed for. Deep in the back of his head, he could hear Lucifer, could hear him screaming and his anger. Sam shook away the thoughts, he was out, he was sitting in Singer Salvage yard, safe.

‘Cold?’ It was Michael, moving up behind him. The Archangel was like a beacon, Grace shining so brightly that Sam had no way of missing it, not that he wanted to. He shuffled closer, just so that he could feel the familiar warmth of the Angel.

‘Not at all.’ He admitted, even though he should have been, wearing just a short-sleeved top. It was nothing like Hell, the sun was hitting his skin, and it was warm. It made his skin tingle, soaking up the sunlight that he had been deprived, letting it settle his frantically beating heart.

‘You’ll go back to Hunting.’ Michael observed, and Sam felt a smile form on his face, just the thought of going back to the Hunting life with his brother.

‘You’ll go back to Heaven.’ He pointed out, looking up to the eldest of the Archangels. Michael sighed, sat down beside him, looked up at the sky.

‘What a pair we make, hmm?’ Sam laughed, a full-belly laugh, and even Michael cracked a smile. They stayed like that, just the two of them, neither having a care in the world. After all, they were out, what could go wrong?


End file.
